The inaugural Big Ten Championship game will take place Dec. 3 at Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis but there is no guarantee the contest will remain indoors in future seasons. The conference has expressed an interest in rotating venues but this debate really centers on one argument: inside or outside?

TheWolverine.com staff writers Michael Spath and Andy Reid tackle this debate today.

By Michael Spath

There is something very nostalgic about playing outdoors at Soldier Field in Chicago, Lambeau Field in Green Bay or even Cleveland Browns Stadium. Why be like everyone else when the weather - the cold, the snow, the wind - is what separates the Big Ten from everyone else. The reason? Ratings and recruits, and whether or not those answers jive with the traditionalists doesn't matter because that is the business of college football in 2011.

The Big Ten wants its game to stand on par with the SEC Championship, with the Big 12, the ACC and the soon to be Pac 12 Championship, and with the exception of the Pac 12 (and let's face it, weather isn't nearly the factor in California, Arizona, etc.), every championship game is played indoors. Why? Because they guarantee the opportunity for a well-played crisp football game in which scoring is emphasized to create the type of action football fans from other conferences crave.

Think about it, if you have no alliance to the SEC or the ACC or the Big 12, will you tune in to a sloppy, low-scoring 14-10 game? Well, you might because you're a football fan but you probably won't be as engrossed and you'll likely consider changing the channel to watch something else more exciting.

Now, there is no promise that an indoor game will automatically create a more high-scoring affair but an indoor game does eliminate one of the biggest potential obstacles - poor weather.

An indoor game also makes for a better fan experience to those 60-80,000 patrons that do not have the luxury of sitting in a suite or in the press box. Let's not forget, these games will only mean something if the fans flock to them, both in person and on television and the conference higher-ups must do everything they can to ensure the best product on the field.

Perhaps more importantly than the ratings or the fan experience, however, is the appeal to recruits. One of the most consistent - and, arguably, biggest - knocks against the Big Ten is that players from warm-weather states like Texas, California and Florida do not want to play in a climate that demands heaters and winter coats on the sidelines, sleeves and hoods on the field.

It might be wimpy and incredibly shortsighted - after all at least 13 NFL teams face the consistent threat of inclement weather in their outdoor stadiums during November, December and January - but 17- and 18-year old kids often have a difficult time seeing the big picture, plus while they cannot control where their professional lives take them, they can control four years of college and why wouldn't you want to play in optimal conditions throughout the fall.

The Big Ten Championship represents the signature game for the conference, bigger (likely, sorry folks) than Michigan-Ohio State or any other rivalry matchup and on that day, Dec. 3, the conference has to put its best foot forward, appealing to the recruits the league needs to compete with the SEC, Pac 12 and Big 12 for national titles.

If those impressionable kids tune in and see a snow-covered field, with a howling wind and players dressed in parkas, it will only confirm their negative stereotypes of the Big Ten, robbing the conference of its greatest marketing opportunity.

Sure it would be fun to watch the two teams navigate the Frozen Tundra or the gusts that permeate the Windy City but the price of tradition could be the future success and that price is too great.

By Andy Reid

When Jim Delany finally pulls the trigger and decides on a future permanent site for the Big Ten Championship, one factor - and only factor - should dictate his choice.

It's not fancy, state-of-the-art facilities, like you'll find in Indianapolis and Lucas Oil Stadium. It's not the surrounding festivities, which could obviously be found in abundance in boisterous downtown Chicago. It's not centralized location or access to luxury hotels or distance from the local Medieval Times Restaurant (Chicago would win that one in a landslide, for what it's worth).

No. Ultimately, none of that matters much, because both Chicago and Indianapolis can adequately provide any and all necessities. But Chicago and the Big Ten have a history almost as old as the game of football itself - and that connection needs to be honored as the conference moves into the future.

The tradition and excellence of the conference are tightly wound up in the city of Chicago. To not pair the two together for the conference title game would be to create a chasm between Big Ten future and Big Ten past, the longest and most illustrious of any major conference.

In 1896, officials from Michigan, Chicago, Illinois, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Purdue and Northwestern met in Chicago to discussion plans for - and eventually announce - the formation of the Western Conference.

And it was Chicago where the schools reconvened three years later to invite Iowa and Indiana into the mix, creating what became known colloquially as the Big Nine.

Amos Alonzo Stagg, then the coach at Chicago, successfully lobbied the conference's front office - located in, ah, you get it by now - to pass a rule that coaches had to be professors, a statute which forced Michigan, the charter member, out of the league from 1907-1917.

The Big Ten is the most tradition-rich collective in collegiate sports. It's got the Rose Bowl, the Brown Jug. the Buckeyes and the Wolverines. Red Grange and Bronko Nagurski.

The conference is changing, and fans should welcome Nebraska with open arms and a hot dog at the tailgate.

Change is good, but don't turn your back on the past.

No matter how much Michigan football evolves, it will never rid itself of winged helmets or the colors maize and blue. The Buckeyes will never cease singing Hang On Sloopy. The Floyd of Rosedale isn't going anywhere.

And neither should the bond between the Big Ten and Chicago.

The city is the heart of the Big Ten's past. Let it be an integral part of the future, too.